


Positive Feedback

by Ergoemos



Category: Naruto
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Childhood Violence, Chuunin Exams, Original Character(s), Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-25
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-02-26 22:47:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2669228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ergoemos/pseuds/Ergoemos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Born and bred an Oto-nin since childhood, Kurusawa is just one of the many shinobi brought to the Chuunin exams to form the facade of normalcy necessary for the surprise betrayal and assault on Konoha. Kurusawa doesn't have high expectations for herself in the exams. She is a realist and knows that only sheer brutality, an admirable Sound-nin trait, and incredible luck, the last refuge of the desperate, has even gotten her this far. She doesn't expect to survive the exams but, like anyone Sound of mind, Kurusawa decided that she'll fight until the silence takes her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story came at me suddenly and without any preamble. I am not generally a shounen fan, but I have found myself inexplicably drawn towards writing what is most invariably an odd fiction about one of the most popular shounen anime in the world, Naruto. 
> 
> I don't have much experience with Naruto. I have seen about four or five episodes, in all, as well as a few parody abridged versions of the same episodes. 
> 
> My main wealth of knowledge comes from two other fanfiction sources.  
> The amazing Team 8 by S'TarKan found here: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/2731239/1/  
> as well as Dreaming of Sunshine by Silver Queen: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7347955/1/
> 
> If you want a real, impressive and impactful story I highly recommend Team 8, period. Dreaming of Sunshine has been so popular that it has spawned its own form of interesting OC (I am using just a generic old normal OC). 
> 
> Anyway, this has seen only minor revisions or edits. I will post everything I have on here and see if I feel like continuing. I just wanna get it down somewhere for now to have it somewhere. 
> 
> If you do read this, I hope you enjoy! Have a good day!

Chapter 1

A twig snapped. There was a flash of steel as the genin team drew kunai, prepared for an attack. The bespectacled leader of the group seemed almost bored as he turned to face the opposite direction of the broken stick. In the shadows of an overgrown copse of trees were three figures. Dappled sunlight glinted off of one of their headbands, revealing the sound clan logo.

Leaning relaxedly against one of the trees, the shortest of the sound-nin trio in the shadows spoke up, high pitched and confident, “Kabuto-sama, I have a proposition for you.”

\---

One week earlier, Kurusawa felt herself nearly brimming with energy and no little amount of adrenaline. She and her fellow genin were finally walking through the gates of the Hidden Village of the Leaf.

A bit of a misnomer, in her opinion. The place was really more of a small city, given its size and bustling nature. If the Land of Sound ever had so many civilians milling about in one place, it would have been seen as outright insurrection. There was so many people going about their day: running errands or visiting friends or any of the myriad of other things people with freedom do with their time. Kurusawa saw a pair of children, no older than five, weaving their way through the crowd, and nearly smiled at their cheer.

She did not smile. She didn’t let her face twitch from its vaguely amused and relaxed, maybe even lazy, expression. She didn’t want to give the impression of interest, even with half her face covered in oto-nin wrappings.  She was not about to let her fellow sound-nin see her excitement or joy at having finally reached the Hidden Leaf Village.

Kurusawa did lean a little closer to her genin teammate, Gabodu and whispered to him, “Hell, these people look softer than you, Gabo.”  Gabodu was very much the opposite Kurusawa in nearly every way, walking together in an an obvious discordant contrast.

Where Kurusawa was very short for their age, Gabo was as tall as most adults. Where she looked rail-thin and a little starved, he was pudgy and soft. Where his head was bare of hair, hers was covered in thin dark strands tied into braided ponytails that started at just behind her ears, reaching all the way to her mid-back. In fact, between them Gabodu looked like he could have been a full adult, while Kurusawa hardly passed for a preteen.The rest of their faces were hidden behind the usual Oto-nin wrappings, but their team had always worked with their head revealed.

Of course, the other noticeable difference between the two was that Kurusawa was carrying both her own equipment and backpack as well as his, while he walked along unencumbered.

Gabodu snorted, but didn’t say anything. Their other teammate, Densu, who stood on the far side of Gabodu, nearly as tall as him but built far more slim, barked under his breath, “Shut it, Ku-sa.”

As was her habit, her small hidden smile widened just a bit at the nickname. While it was not a complimentary name by any means, it did mean she successfully needled the tall, stuffy Densu. Densu did not ‘let’ Kurusawa carry his equipment. This was not out of any kindness. He just didn’t trust her with his stuff. Gabodu knew that if she tried any pranks with his equipment, she wouldn’t be able to walk the next few weeks when he caught her. And he would.

Kurusawa’s face didn’t twitch as their jonin sensei spared them a momentary glance. He was at  the front of the line and that glance  promised punishment for any further commentary. His meaning did not need to be heard.

The Sound-nin contingent marching through the main streets towards the Konoha Visitor’s Center was completely silent. The six Genin teams were organized into rows by team, and the teams were lead by the oto-jonin who trained them. Kurusawa’s team was second from the back, but in a village known for audio effects, even whispers traveled far and wide.

Even as lively and friendly as Konoha seemed from a distance, the residents were not naive enough to miss the contingent of foreign nin in their midst. As the sound ninja walked through the streets, people became quiet, wary, and curious, while making way for the marching enemy warriors. The fact that they were cautious of these regimented children was a reminder that, in spite of Konoha’s friendly nature, they were not unaware of the common strife that existed between nin of each clan.

Kurusawa’s team was not the oldest group of Genin, but they nearly were. All three were around fifteen years old. With Gabodu and Densu they were almost the tallest group of genin, if Kurusawa weren’t almost comically short in comparison. With her childish hair and obviously oversized load, it would not be unlikely for her to been taken for a ten year old pretending to be a ninja.

The procession made it to the visitors center without hassle, not having to slow down once for the crowds, which parted respectfully without complaint.

It was easier to clear customs then Kurusawa expected, especially compared to her home ‘town’. All they had to do was fill out a few forms, with their name, origin, and reason for coming to the Leaf Village. Kurusawa had no surname, so she simply filled out the first name spot on the form.

Her origin was the Otogakure, which was pretty much a lie. The Hidden Village of Sound was exceptionally well hidden, as there was no central village. Otogakure, for those in the know, was more of a collection of tightly affiliated compounds spread around the Land of Sound and neighboring lands.

This was not, to Kurusawa’s knowledge, something very well known among other ninja villages, mainly because Orochimaru would send the person who talked about this into one of his laboratories and would not be coming out again under their own power. Then again, she hasn’t had much contact with other cultures or people, so who knows how much was really known about the Oto-nin here.

Lastly, she wrote down her reason for being in Konoha as simply, “Chunin Exam.” This was the truth. What the hidden village of the Leaf didn’t know was that she and her fellow nin were there to invade and conquer the little city during the exam, not to participate.

It was too bad too, as these people seemed pretty nice. It would be a shame to have to slaughter them all. 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Customs were finished in a neat, orderly fashion and one of the officials at the office, and a woman, a Konoha jonin by the looks of her stride and wary eyes, lead them to their temporary home. The oto-nin were escorted to their assigned building and left to their own devices before noon.

The compound that the sound-nin were given to bunk in was nice, nicer than Kurusawa expected. Of course, it wasn’t underground, like she was used to living in, but it was nice all the same, with actual sheets on the bed and a pillow. She wouldn’t be using them, of course, but she appreciated the cot all the same. She was to bunk in the same room as Gabudo and Densu, as well as a trio of male sound genin whom she didn’t bother to learn the names of. They came from a different Otogakure and she had never sparred against them when the local oto-nin gathered to show off.

Kurusawa packed away Gabodu’s stuff at his selected cot just the way he wanted it, still wearing her own equipment, when the two jonin leads for the genin teams stepped in.

Kurusawa’s sensei, a severe man who wore his face wrappings religiously,who towered over six feet tall and wore tetsuba on his back, looked down at his genin in his usual disdain, as if he couldn’t quite believe that he had been stuck with such rejects.

Kurusawa could see what his gaze implied. Her group was probably among the more esoteric for Sound-nin, almost as diverse as Orochimaru’s favored, Team Dosu. Not that it took much to outdo the uniformity of most of the other genin teams. Even excluding the obvious outlier in Kurusawa’s clearly prepubescent body, Gabodu’s frame was far bulkier than most nin could manage, and in spite of his attempts to bulk up, Dansu looked nearly as thin as Kurusawa herself while being a two heads taller.

The other genin team were so alike, their heads completely wrapped and heights nearly identical, they could have been brothers. They might have been, even, though Kurusawa doubted it. Orochimaru discouraged that sort of familial attachment in his nin. He just “suggested” uniformity in their attire when appropriate.

Kurusawa grew up in one of the “mixed” compounds, which composed of one of the absorbed villages in the Land of Sound, and the nearest research and training compound. So her and her comrades were not as indoctrinated by the oto-nin standards of uniformity. Their uniqueness was less a feature of their skill, and more a lack of official training and care by the senior Oto-nin. That Gabodu’s team even got to come to Konoha was more for the desire to bulk up their genin numbers than for any desire to see Kurusawa, Gabodu, and Densu to advance. The trio knew this, but were wise enough not to complain.

In fact, as the other genin group stood at attention before their sensei, Kurusawa leaned against a nearby wall, her pack and equipment still strapped to her back. Gabodu and Densu, either with a better sense of authority or because they felt pressured by the attitude of the other genin, stood more or less at ease near the front of the room.

Her sensei, who never once told them his name since he picked them up from the Otogakure the Gabodu trio lived at, spoke up, “You are all confined to the compound for the duration of your stay here in Konoha. You are in enemy territory and you are not permitted to wander. If you caught outside the compound, you will be punished.” The oto-genin did not need to be told how they would be punished. It was well known.

He looked over us all before his gruff commentary continued, “You may not talk about Otogakure or its nin-structure while in Konoha, even while you are in this compound.” Kurusawa noted that. Even the oto leadership didn’t know how secure the privacy on this building was.

“You may not take off your wrappings outside of this compound unless given explicit permission. If you are caught outside without them you will be punished.” Kurusawa rolled her eyes as the two of the “brothers”standing next to opposite bunks looked at each other confused at what seemed like a redundant rule.

Kurusawa saw immediately the trap. Oto style punishment was dealt in threes. If you broke one rule, you got a level one punishment. If you broke two at the same time, you got a level two punishment. If you broke three at the same time, you get to go back to the labs.

Long story short, anyone going outside the compound would obviously have to remove their wrappings to blend in with the people. They were specifically making it clear that sneaking out would lead to serious trouble. If they got caught.

Kurusawa saw no reason to get caught in the first place, simply by not leaving.

“If any of you are caught by enemy nin, you will be rescued. If you break your vow of honor as Oto-nin and tell our enemies anything, you will be rescued, then given to our Kage as a terminal test subject.”

There was no motion at this announcement. This wasn’t new, but hearing it said aloud was more intimidating than when it was just implied by their leaders.

Kurusawa and her team volunteered for this. They wanted to be here. Probably for different reasons individually, but they were here, none the less. A few new threats wouldn’t make the difference.

“If you survive and demonstrate enough skill, you will be promoted to chunin regardless of the results of this test,” he finished, as if giving them some great boon by this offering.

Their sensei stared them down, searching their wrapped faces for something she could not guess. Finally, after enough time passed that the moment went from poignant to awkward, he asked, “Any questions?”

Kurusawa let the others have their chance before speaking up. Just as their sensei seemed to be about say one last thing, she chimed in, privately angry at herself for how young her voice was, “Are we to be provided any resources on our enemies or training grounds to refine our skill while we are here, waiting for the exams?”

She knew this compound was large. Large enough to accommodate a small embassy. So it should have a courtyard of some kind. The whole compound was walled off, defensible, but not secure, given that they were guests in enemy territory, not diplomatic envoys.

This was not to say she expected much use of the courtyard. Most of the sound genin who came here knew who she was, and would not deign to help her with her training. She was more interested in the knowledge anyway.

Their sensei glared at her for a moment, as if chastising her for asking a question even as he requested them. “You may train in the courtyard down the hall, but do not use anything abilities that would give away your strengths. Find Harutsi for information on the locals and the foreign nin expected to come.”

Kurusawa nodded and remained silent.

Their sensei stood still, daring anyone else to talk. Finally, he said, “Dismissed. You have the rules and the day to yourselves. There will be a briefing tonight at dinner. Don’t come bother me unless it is an emergency.”

Kurusawa nodded along with the others. In other words, she thought, don’t bother sensei period. He doesn’t care to train her or the others at all.

The other genin group got some whispered comments from their own sensei. She could have perked her hearing up to eavesdrop, but she didn’t care to hear about other groups getting better assistance than her own. She was not skilled in much ninjitsu, but no oto-genin survived training without developing some skill with sound manipulation. Her skill was probably meager compared to most of her fellows, but she mastered chakra-empowered eavesdropping, at the very minimum.

Kurusawa continued to lean against the wall with little concern as she examined her gloves, making sure the slightly fraying fingertips weren’t getting worse, checking the studs in the knuckle to make sure they weren’t coming loose. All of her gear showed the same kind of carefully managed overuse, as if she had been repairing the same tools and clothing for years, rather than replacing them when they got wore down. Her uniform was covered in carefully sewn patches, and the hair ties in her braid were made of strips of cloth from something larger, as if torn from old fabric.

Finally, the other sound-jonin left, and the two groups looked at each other for a moment. Finally the other Jonin team’s leader, the tallest of them, motioned to the door, “Would you guys like to see the courtyard and try a little friendly three-on-three?”

Gabodu scoffed, and Densu shook his head, “Don’t bother including Ku-sa. She’s a one trick pony and useless in a real fight if she can’t use her ability. We don’t need her slowing us down.” He sneered, as Kurusawa ignored the jabs. She’d heard it before. She was usually excluded from nin-games, due to her size and lack of practical training.

Their leader guffawed, crossing his arms, “You think you stand against us two on three? Seriously?”

The second taller of the genin on the opposing team whispered pointedly in Kurusawa’s direction, “Too bad too. She looks like she’d be fun to play with.”

Kurusawa gave this about as much reaction as Densu’s comment, her eyes sliding over to her other glove.

Gabodu scoffed again, speaking in a surprisingly alto. “Your funeral. She fights like a rabid possum in a corner. Too scrawny anyway.”

The whisperer who expressed the interest in Kurusawa responded as they walked out the door, “I like them young and fiesty.”

Their voices began to fade with distance but Kurusawa heard Densu’s acerbic reply, “Jokes’s on you then, cause she is the oldest of us, nearly sixteen.”

Kurusawa waited until she could hear no more remnants of their banter, even enhancing her hearing a little to make sure they were gone.

Once they had clearly left the hallway, Kurusawa stepped towards the door to explore the compound further, well away from the courtyard.

The embassy building provided by the leaf village was more than a spartan suite of rooms for visiting nin of other lands. The oto-clan had a whole building to themselves, three stories tall and large enough to house over a hundred and fifty people, just at a guess. There were at least three more rooms like Kurusawa’s with relatively tightly packed bunks of eight on this floor alone. She figured thats where the other genin were. She didn’t find out for sure, walking towards the nearest stairwell.

She quickly mounted the stairs to the third floor, her breath coming a little faster from the haste. She wanted avoid the other genin at all cost, and to explore the building in relative peace. She still noticed a few sound-nin walking the hallways up here, or talking behind closed doors, but those that saw her just gave her a cold analytical stare before ignoring her.

She didn’t recognize any of them, but the, most of them wore their head wrappings. She wore them herself, though her hair and height were telling enough.

Kurusawa contented herself with creating a mental map of the building, tracing the hallways and looking into rooms that were open and unoccupied. Most of the rooms were empty offices and and storage on this side of the building. They looked recently cleaned, as if the Leaf villagers were kind enough to dust for their incoming visitors.

She wondered at their waste of energy just to make foreign soldiers feel welcome. Any of these Leaf citizens or ninja would have been lucky to see the inside of a dank cell room in the Land of Sound. It wasn’t hard to see what Orochimaru and oher Oto-nin meant when he spoke about the weakness of other lands and cultures. Leaf was known to be particularly soft, but all of the lands allowed for embassies and foreigners to roam, more or less, freely.

She found a set of bathrooms, one for men and one for women, also clean and clearly separate. Kurusawa was confounded but appreciative of the separation of gender defined bathrooms. There were not likely more than a handful of women, counting both the genin and higher ranked personnel, among oto-nin, so she should be relatively safe from being hassled in the women’s bathrooms.

As she walked further down the halls, closer to directly above where her own room was on the first floor, she saw more signs of use by oto-nin, in the bedrooms here. If the one room with an open door was anything to go by, these rooms were not quite so sparse as the barracks-like rooms used for the genin.

There were only two beds per room, fully sized with lamps and desks for use, and even rugs on the wooden floor. She saw a wash basin and cabinets for equipment storage, well made and secured with a lock. Not that any mundane lock would stop nin from breaking in, but the gesture was likely for civilians.

As Kurusawa pulled her head back from peering into the room, a large hand gripped her shoulder and turned her around roughly, slamming her against the door sill with little regard for her safety.

Kurusawa had her backpack to thank for keeping her head from smacking against the hardwood doorjam, given the force of the shove.

An oto-nin held her in place with one hand on her neck, leaning in to stare her directly in the face. She couldn’t read his expression, given the mask of wrappings, but she could guess he was angry. His voice was a growl, as he asked, “What are you doing here?”

Adrenaline and fear spiked. Kurusawa gulped and shrinked against the wall, blinking her eyes. Her voice stuttered a bit as she found her voice, “Ahh-ah- Sorry, Oto-s-sa-sama. I was just looking around f-for Harutsi-sama. I-I didn’t mean to intrude.”

Kurusawa found that the secret to taking advantage of her childish looks was not by controlling her natural fear, but projecting it efficiently. Most Oto-nin were not the emotionless sociopaths they put on for the enemy. They all had mothers, sisters, or daughters, friends and companions.

When a little girl starts shaking, stuttering and turning red with a shimmer of tears, a primal part of human mind is triggered. Of course, there were exceptions to this, but Kurusawa had handled those kinds of freaks and true psychopaths, with varying degrees of success. In this case, however, the man’s grip on her neck loosened just enough that she felt a shudder of relief go through her body. The fear was still there, still tangible, but not pressing on the back of her throat so tightly she could barely breath.

The man repeated, a little slower but no less gruff, “Who are you? What team?”

While his hand was still on her neck, she wasn’t in imminent fear of dying either. Kurusawa said, her voice still trembly, “Sorry, Oto-sama. I am Kurusawa, sir. My genin team leader is Gabodu. I-I don’t know my jonin-sensei’s name, but he carries a big tetsubo.”

The man’s eyes searched hers for lies that did not exist, before finally being satisfied with a grunt. He stood up straight and half-tossed, half-shoved her towards the nearest stairwell. “From now on, the third floor is off-limits. Tell your comrades and do not let me catch you up here again. I will have a word with your jonin for this.” He paused as she started to back away from him, eager to follow his commands. “And Harutsi is a jonin on the first floor. He has a ponytail and red gloves. Can’t miss him.”

Kurusawa flashed him a smile, hard to discern under her mask, then bowed gratefully, “Thank you, oto-sama. Please forgive my presence!”

She turned and ran for the stairs, heading downstairs as fast as she could. She did not go to the first floor, but instead exited on the second, slowing to a walk and heading to the nearest bathroom. Once inside, she rounded the corner for a sink and leaned against a wall for support.

She rubbed her face with two hands, removing any trace of tears in her eyes and letting the red fade from the skin visible under her eyes. She felt a little drained from the adrenaline, but no more than usual. She sighed and finally opened her eyes, staring into the perfect mirror set above the sink.

Kurusawa was not naturally cute for a girl just on the cusp of puberty. Her shoulders were too broad, her face was a little blocky, a little too angular for her small shape, even hidden by the traditional wrappings of the oto-nin. Her black hair was her biggest selling point, tied in neat little pigtails, the very end braided in a neat orb. She almost looked too old for the hairstyle though, and her eyes a little too sharp and self-aware for a twelve-year old. She fought the urge to bite her lip in self-recrimination.

Instead, she washed her hands and straightened the fabric high across her cheek, arranging it flat and neat again.

She looked herself over and sighed. It would have to do. Kurusawa left the room and began looking through the second floor for interesting rooms or abandoned corners. It was stupid to not to get to know her surroundings. She would be here for a week and she did not know most of the shinobi here. Despite her relative confidence that most of the oto-nin would not bother her, some would see her as prey, like that creep-genin on the other team.

Kurusawa decided to spend the next couple hours preparing for that. First, she made a quick survey of the second floor, and found it was not quite as busy as the first or third. She also noted that the whole building was uniformly designed. Bathrooms and closets were in roughly the same place on each floor.

Knowing this, she picked one of the empty closets just around the corner from a stairwell and closed the door behind her, leaving it the same as she found it, but alone on the inside of a pitch black room. Though she would be cornered in this windowless room, should someone look for her, she felt more secure all the same.

Safe in the silent darkness, she slipped off her backpack for the first time since she arrived in the Hidden Village of Leaf. Positioning herself in a corner opposite the closet door, she placed the large travelling bag before her and began to unpack the contents by memory.

It wasn’t hard to remember, really. A nin’s equipment is their only ally in enemy territory. Kurusawa didn’t feel safe anywhere, so she didn’t ever go somewhere with the only possessions she, well, possessed.

Packed between her spare set of clothes was her poisoning kit. At the bottom of her bag were the trap making tools she had scrounged up over the years. She didn’t leave anything behind. If she held back in this chunin exam, she’d be dead before the new moon.

She took a breath and steadied herself. Her hands were shaking from tension and she needed to remain calm.

Visualizing what she wanted done in her head, she grabbed one vial filled with an herb extract that numbs on contact. She knew it was the right vial because she’d labeled each one with miniscule patterns of bumps on the side. She worked in the dark quite a bit.

She added a few drops to her mortar and pestle, and then pulled out the nightshade leaves she found on the journey here, and began to grind them in the numbing juice, carefully and slowly. She had until evening for the briefing . No one cared about her until then.

Kurusawa prepared.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Kurusawa worked through lunch, working with the utter care of a surgeon in the dark, knowing she didn’t have enough supplies to redo any mistakes. Between projects, she ate a meal bar mechanically, not even aware of the taste. She had filched an extra two boxes of rations when given access to the storage room the day before she left her Otogakure and she had filled her water flask in the bathroom.

Several times, people walked past her closet, and each time she froze, silent as the dead, even pressing her chakra against the pounding of her heart, willing it to beat more quietly. The effort, along with holding her breath, made her feel lightheaded and woozy.

She might be more worried about hurting herself, but she didn’t trust in the benevolence of anyone who found her practicing her trade without explicit permission. She was no one’s favorite genin and while they let her be by herself if she didn’t make a nuisance out of herself, they didn’t give her freedom to do as she pleased in the open.

According to her sense of time, it was somewhere around three when she finished everything. With light and less caution, her preparation would have taken an hour at most, but she didn’t regret the lost time. She packed everything away carefully and stood up, listening at the door to make sure that there was no one in the halls.

Clear, she stepped out and headed downstairs, focused on finding the bath and showers for the complex, which she figured would be in one of the side buildings within the walls of the compound.

She was right and, blessing of blessings, they separated the baths based on gender too. She slipped into the women’s bath, which was also thankfully empty.

Because she still had time, her current set of clothing and wraps were placed in the baths first. She didn’t know how laundry would be handled, but she didn’t trust anyone else with the her nicest clothes. That, and she could get the smell of kerosene and poison from her gloves without any suspicious questions.

Setting them up to dry, she moved to take care of herself, starting by undoing the ties in her hair with close care. Part of it was to save the ties for when she put her hair back up. Most of it was so that she didn’t hurt herself. As she loosened the braid, she began to slowly running her fingers through the kinked dark threads.

As she did, shards of carefully broken glass needles and sharpened, rusted nails discreetly fell out of her hair into her waiting palm.

Having long hair was a liability for a ninja. Anyone could grab onto the threads and steal a wide range of movement from the slow or careless kunoichi so vain as to keep her hair long and free.

Kurusawa learned this the hard way when she first started her career as a genin. She learned quickly that she could either find a way to prevent others from grabbing her hair, or cut it off. She decided on the first option. Her “comrades” stopped grabbing at her hair once the first one developed lock-jaw, and the next sliced a tendon in their palm..

Kurusawa washed quickly. She didn’t use the soap provided. She was pretty certain it was left by the Hidden Village of the Leaf, but she couldn’t be certain. She didn’t care if she stank. She was just making sure she was clean enough to not get sick. Smelling nice would not really help her anyway.

After a fast rinse of her hair and a scrub, she jumped out and began drying off. This took a rather long time, mostly because she was focused on her hair first, so she could quickly put it back into its braids.

Until she did, she wouldn’t breath easily, but this would probably be the last time she had to really bathe in safety, while everyone else got settled into the compound. With all her practice, it took only half an hour to rebraid and ‘trap’ her hair with the needles..

She was checking to see how her clothes had dried when she heard a laughing snort and a familiar voice, “Oh, I didn’t realize I had walked into the children’s bath. Have you gotten lost, little girl?”

Kurusawa turned in place, her hand resting on one of the side pouches of her backpack, which sat on top of the same table her clothes dried on.. Her tense stance relaxed a smidge when she recognized the voice and girl accompanying it. “Tsuchi-san,” Kurusawa said coolly but respectfully.

Without waiting any longer to let them dry, Kurusawa reached behind herself to grab her clothing, donning them without facing away from Kin Tsuchi.

Kin was one of the members of Team Dosu, Orochimaru’s favored group of genin. Unlike the other two, she didn’t have any modifications like many of the other oto-nin. Either she was being saved for a different project or got a special exception. She wore a green vest and black boots. Her scarf and pants were… “Very subtle,” Kurusawa motioned to Kin’s outfit, and the snake-patterned pants and scarf. Kurusawa’s words and tone were filled with about as much sarcasm as she dared spare.

She wondered if Orochimaru gave them the snake pattern or if they took it up for themselves because it was “cool”. Kurusawa didn’t see any advantage in declaring their devotion to snakes, given that Orochimaru was not exactly the most welcome nin in Konoha and that he was possibly the most well known snake summoner in the modern era.

Kin Tsuchi had long hair, almost to her feet, tied at a ribbon. She could afford to make that kind of decision. She was skilled enough among the Genin that none could really use the advantage against her, while the older nin tended to avoid pissing off one of Orochimaru’s favored. Kin was proud that she was capable enough to pull off the long beautiful sweep of hair, well cared for and clearly the pride of its owner.

Tsuchi’s face twisted into a snarl, as she spoke up, “Shut it, Ku-sa. You don’t have anything. Orochimaru’s all but forgot about you, you lab reject.”

Kurusawa winced, but not at the jibe. She was worried someone would overhear Kin’s slip. Mentioning the kage was probably on that list of “Oto-nin organizational matters” that was not to be discussed. Kin continued, “We are going to go right up the ranks while you die in some un-named fashion. They won’t even bother recording your name in a list of the dead.”

Kurusawa didn’t say anything, continuing to don her slightly damp but serviceable clothing. She could live with the wrinkles. It’s not like she dressed to impress.

“Got nothing to say, Ku-sa? ‘Course not. You don’t have anything but worn down equipment and a single measly jutsu. You’ve survived by being the biggest coward, the shortest lightning rod. Your partners hate you almost as much as everyone else hates you, maybe more, since they have to carry your weak-ass on every mission. You are at the very bottom of a deep well without any chance of escape.” Her triumphant pride was written all over her face.

Kurusawa shurgged, not looking at Tsuchi, though not looking away, as she slowly started wrapping her face, “The thing is, Tsuchi-san, when I fail, I don’t have anywhere worse to go.”

Kurusawa felt herself slip into a darker place. She was days away from making a difference in her own life and yet still everyone pushed her down. She was tired of it. Kurusawa figured she was probably going to die soon, but she could go out knowing she got rattle to Kin Tsuchi’s pedestal a little.

Kurusawa sighed as she finished, “If I were you, I’d be worried. There’s a long way to fall from the top. How will your… jonin feel that first time you fail him? Where does it leave you when you fall from his good graces?”

Kurusawa watched the anger blossom on Kin’s face as a senbon needle seemed to sprout from nowhere into her hand. “You need to shut that mouth, Ku-sa. Children ought to know their place.”

Kurusawa didn’t say anything more and didn’t meet her eyes, which would have been seen as a direct challenge. She finished wrapping her face and carefully grabbed the handle on her backpack, walking towards the exit, conspicuously around Kin Tsuchi.

She got to the exit, her back to Kin and hand on the door handle when the flash of pain hit her upper arm. Through her uniform, the blunt end of a senbon needle could be seen. At the base where it met her flesh, a blossom of slightly darker fabric showed her that the blood was already starting to flow.

Gritting her teeth she glanced at Tsuchi, who smiled with bright teeth shining. “A gift,” she offered in explanation, “You probably don’t have anything that nice in your bag, bloody or not. I’ll take it back from your corpse in the exams.”

Kurusawa didn’t say anymore as she pulled the door open and stepped into the afternoon sun. Every movement made the senbon puncture spike with pain, but there was no burn of poison, for which Kurusawa was thankful.

She walked around to the far side of the building, closest to the wall separating the oto-nin compound from Konoha, before pausing, putting her bag down and digging for scraps of cloth. Only when she had some extra wrappings available did she place her hand on the senbon needle in her left arm.

In one quick motion, she pulled it out and pressed the fabric to the wound, heedless of the additional pain. The senbon needle was tossed from her occupied right hand to her free left, and she set to tying the strip of cloth into a bandage, using her teeth and right hand.

She could hear one of the Oto-Chunin that came along with the attache of sound-ninja on the walls of the compound, walking closer to get a look at her. No doubt, he was trying to figure out what she was doing behind the bath house. She didn’t look up at him until she was finished. By the time she was finished, he started to walk on, clearly not concerned with the habits of a lowly genin.

Kurusawa looked at the senbon needle in her hand, about to abandon it behind the guard house.

The problem was… it was made of high quality steel, sharp and weighty and balanced; exactly what a good senbon should be. Kurusawa had a few, but they were old and a little off-balance despite her care. She found them abandoned in a weapon range when a sudden rainstorm forced practicing nin inside. She saw the opportunity and used it to gather new supplies. She had a cough for weeks afterwards, but the senbon and kunai Kurusawa got that during that storm just a year and a half ago had been invaluable.

Decided, she cleaned the needle off on the grass, before sliding it into an empty slot in her right sleeve leather holster, next to her other two senbon that were still good enough for accurate throwing.

Relatively clean, but for the blood on her arm, Kurusawa headed back into the main building, looking for a jonin with red gloves and a ponytail.

She didn’t have much time before dinner, but she did want to locate this Harutsi jonin so she knew where to find him tomorrow. She expected a lot of free time in the next five days, so she might as well know where she would be spending them.

Kurusawa didn’t really feel as comfortable walking among the other nin on the first floor, but she refused to show it. It really wasn’t any worse than walking around at the home Otogakure, other than her lack of familiarity with these nin.

Also, there was clearly less research going on, probably because the kind of projects that were usually done at her home would probably not be welcome under Konoha City Ordinances.

Kurusawa wandered the first floor, staying out of the way of the others without obviously shrinking from their presence. It was a skill so ingrained in her nature that, on ruminative days, she wondered if her chakra was doing something to make her less obtrusive or if it was something any person could do. She didn’t want to try and figure it out, for fear that if she tried to consciously manipulate her chakra during her movements through her home, she might somehow make it less effective.

Either way, none of the oto-nin bothered her as she wandered the first floor, sticking her head into open rooms and glancing around for red gloves. Throughout the day, more oto-nin had arrived, most as “security and escort” for the genin. If she had to guess, there were about fifty shinobi total in the building, eighteen of which were genin. It might not have seen like much, but there were rarely more than ten or twelve nin in her Otogakure other than the genin Gabodu, Densu, and herself, at any given time.

Kurusawa stuck her head into various open doors, trying to spot a sound shinobi who might be the one who would bear reports and other knowledge on the locals.

Walking towards one of the less busy wings of the building, she started to hear a discordant, melody playing through the hallways. Quiet at first, it was subtle enough that she wondered if she was being placed under a genjutsu at first. Still, it got louder as she approached the end of the hall.

The melody wasn’t played poorly, but it’s rhythm was off, slightly testing at Kurusawa’s understanding of measure and beat. An occasional note would not be played, then a note would go down an octave for no reason, before returning to normal. Subtly and insidious, it was annoying to experience. She hoped it wasn’t something she would have to deal with for long.

Kurusawa finally found the room this nose came from, a larger bedroom with a single bed inside, some shelves, and a cabinet and a desk. Sitting at the desk, playing at the wall, was a jonin with a ponytail and red gloves, playing a metal recorder. He seemed completely unaware of her presence, and there was no one else in the room.

She stood in the doorway, a little awkward, waiting for him to notice, but he never glanced her way and his back was to the door. She cleared her throat and asked, “Ah, Oto-sama? I am looking for a Jonin named Harutsi…” Harutsi didn’t respond immediately to her request. Instead, he continued to play for a bit, before slowly standing up, turning to face her as the melody finally ended on an annoyingly high-pitched whine that seemed to ring in the air for seconds afterwards.

The jonin bowed at the end of his performance, waiting for applause for his nearly non-existent audience. Kurusawa did not oblige, but did wait patiently for him to finish.

Finally, he stopped performing for an invisible crowd, looking at Kurusawa with eyes that did not imply a complete grasp of reality. He finally spoke, in a sing song voice, “The man I am is Harutsi. What do you want from me?”

Kurusawa did not usually deal with unhinged people, but she knew better than to be impolite, especially since she needed something from him. “Harutsi-sama, I am Kurusawa. I was told you would have reports and records of the local forces and other genin we are going to face?”

Harutsi sighed theatrically, sing-saying, “Here, I thought, you wanted to watch me perform. I was filled with feelings so warm. Instead, it’s knowledge you wish to see; over there are the documents, plain as could be.” He motioned with the hand not holding his flute, to a secure looking chest that did not match the furniture of the room.

She didn’t move over to it, instead asking, “Are there any conditions before I take a look?”

Harutsi’s eyes sharpened, and he broke into a grin, “Clever you are, not as naive as appear. Only two conditions for you to fear.” The glint in his eye turned sharp and menacing. “You may only grasp one item at a time, and if you leave the room it will be your last crime. Heed my warnings or your sanity will fall, or maybe your body this flute of mine will maul.”

Kurusawa did not miss the brace of needles in the man’s belt, and she wouldn’t be surprised if there was some sort of musical jutsu he could use to break her mind. While he didn’t clearly have a complete grasp of his own senses, this Harutsi was excellent proof to the idea that, for shinobi, sanity was not a prerequisite for military service.

Kurusawa nodded, “I will be sure to heed your words, Harutsi-sama. Thank you very much.” She looked at the chest again, then back into the hallway, to gauge the waning light in a window. It was about time for dinner, and she was not going to be late, even if she was interested in finally digging into the information the documents could provide.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

During her wanderings, she did come across the mess hall for the compound, so she was reasonably certain of where she needed to assemble. She was going to be early, but it would be far better than being late to a dinner with Gabodu and Densu, especially after they finished a training bout. There was no official lunch served by oto-nin military standards, just breakfast and dinner.

She found her way into the mess hall, backpack and equipment in tow, while the staff was still setting up the tables. When she tried leaning against a wall to rest for a moment, they instead commandeered the genin to help set up the tables and benches, which had been put away for storage before they arrived.

Hauling one end of large wooden tables or whole benches was not really something she wanted to do, especially after their long travel to get to Konoha.

Gabodu’s and Densu’s and Kurusawa’s home Otogakure was relatively far removed from actual Oto territory, in an area that might or might not have been on the other side of the border in Waterfall territory. Their jonin hadn’t wanted to have to pick them up, he told them this himself, so he was late. As a result, they had to travel double speed to catch up with the rest of the oto-nin entourage at a meeting location inside the Land of Fire.

She was tired, after a long day of sneaking around, preparing traps, and otherwise trying to stay out of trouble. But moving furniture too large for her small frame wasn’t going to be the final straw where she broke down and gave up. Far from it. So with her help, the mess hall was set up, though her arms and legs burned with a long dull ache that wouldn’t fade for hours, even while, or perhaps because, she used extra chakra in her muscles to get the work done without slowing down the other oto-nin.

Once they were finished, the cooks still had a few minutes more to finish preparation. Finally free to pseudo-relax for a few moments, she leaned against a wall near the serving window and kept an eye on the other entrances.

Oto-nin, most of whom she was not familiar with by sight, slowly trickled in. A few of them were Genin, but the rest were accompanying Chunin and a few Jonin. None of them spared her much more than a second glance, for which she was thankful. Finally, Kurusawa saw Gabodu and Densu step into the room together, looking a little worn. She could tell they won by Gabodu’s slight swagger and Densu’s less than usual irritated face that they had won..

They spotted her and walked over. Dutifully, she asked in a relaxed voice, “You kick their ass?” While these two didn’t like her so much, she was more relaxed around them than she was with nearly anyone else. Unlike everyone else, they needed her. So while they might be rude and dismissive, the wouldn’t hurt her. Not here, when they were looking to become a chunin.

Gabodu grunted in agreement, and Densu scoffed, “Idiots thought they were playing games. Gabodu started cracking bones and they gave up.”

Kurusawa rolled her eyes, “They didn’t even set up terms before sparing? What are they, coddled babies from where they come from?”

Densu glared at her, “Well, they put up a better fight than you ever do.” He looked away, nervously at the serving window, eager to get in line. He did offer a compliment to her in his desire to insult everyone equally, “But at least you do it half way intelligently. Dumbasses.”

He said this as he glanced towards the door, where the trio that they were going to be bunking with just stepped in. The leader of the group had his arm in a sling and all of them looked a little sulky. They met eyes with Kurusawa’s group and their faces, under the wrappings, became deeper scowls. Something might have been said, but the serving window opened and defused any tension.

Densu was gone in a flash, putting his usual sour slouch aside to get food as soon as possible. He was not quite the first person in line, but almost. Gabodu and Kurusawa followed at a more sedate pace. She doubted that there would be any shortage of food, nor would Konoha have provided substandard or even poisoned food. Wars have been started over less. She figured the chef’s would have checked to make sure, just in case.

Dinner was a bowl of rice with a bowl of fish and vegetable curry. It smelled good, spice and sweet. Kurusawa took her serving and followed the hefty Gabodu to the table that Densu sat down at. Densu was already finishing his meal, scrapping the last bits of his curry with a spoon.

Kurusawa placed her meal on the table before him and he shoved his empty bowls aside to consume her meal.

Densu, like all the genin that originated from their Otogakure, had been experimented on. Unlike some of the physical modifications found on Dosu Kinuta and other oto-nin, the nin-scientists at their Otogakure were all focused on pure biological modifications. Densu’s nervous system was modified and changed to give him some unique abilities. It had the side effect of making him burn three times the calories than the average person, making him hungry all the time.

His sponsor, the jonin that made the changes to Densu’s nervous system, gave him two boxes of trail rations for the chunnin exams. It was two months rations for the two week trip to Konoha, and Kurusawa doubted that any extra ration bars were left over by now.

Kurusawa knew Densu nearly outright hated her, but she knew it was tempered by the fact that she volunteered to give him the extra dinner every day, without complaint. She was hungry, but Kurusawa had survived for a couple years this way now, eating breakfast and whatever else she could scrounge up for the day.

The table they picked was along a wall, and she chose to lean close by, arms crossed before her, rather than sit. She didn’t have a problem with sitting, in the abstract. the problem was that it was difficult for her to stand back up and move at an instant’s notice, given the fifty extra pounds on her person at any given time, most of it in her backpack. She was not the most skilled shinobi, and she needed every edge she could manage.

Gabodu followed and took a seat on the bench adjacent to Densu, idly pushing his rice towards his thinner compatriot. Gabodu’s metabolism had been altered in a way to try to replicate some of the Akimichi clan traits, with mixed results. He healed extremely fast as long as he had the calories to burn. Otherwise, his body burns through calories exceedingly slow. He wasn’t fat because he was a lazy nin, it was so that he could always have energy to burn for healing.

That he was eating any of his dinner at all said that he must have taken some bruising while sparring with the other team of genin.

Densu motioned with his head towards the genin team in question, saying, “Collect our bet from Sabuki.”

Kurusawa looked over to the team of genin, looking considerably more bruised, “Which one is Sabuki?” She hoped it wasn’t the creep, she didn’t want to deal with him.

Densu growled, “The tallest one.”

Kurusawa breathed an internal sigh of relief. Perfunctorily, she asked, “What did you bet?”

There was an inaudible screech, soundless pain and scorchless heat, and her teeth vibrated in her skull. The parts of her body closest to Densu burned with a familiar ache. She let out an involuntary hiss, and Densu followed up with, “What do you think, Ku-sa?”

Densu could do something like harmonize with another person’s nervous system, causing distinct pain across their body. It was an effect that only worked at close range, but it stunned people not expecting it. A group of genin a table over flinched as they caught the backlash of the effect, even though it was directed at Kurusawa.

Kurusawa hissed a simple agreement. The wave of pain passed through her slowly, lingering particularly in her senbon puncture and her overextended muscles. She stood up a little straighter, setting eyes on Sabaki and his gang, who were sitting a couple tables away, glaring at Gabodu and Densu. Kurusawa noted that the shortest genin sported a sling on his left arm.

Speaking up so everyone could hear, she said, “Sabuki, I believe you owe my friend a dinner.”

Sabuki, who had been about to dig into his food, looked up and frowned fiercely, “Screw you guys. You nearly broke Tabuki’s arm. The bet is off.”

He raised his chopsticks again, and Kurusawa exhaled. In her minds eye, she pressed her chakra coils down, into the ground, allowing them to take root in the surface in the earth. She then used the only real ninjutsu she knew, muttering under her breath, “Kawarimi no Jutsu.”

There was a flicker of movement, and two of the empty bowls at Densu’s elbow were replaced in a flash of smoke. The smoke puffed up before Sabaki as well. As it cleared, his bowls were gone, replaced by the empty bowls of Densu. In contrast, Densu was already eating Sabuki’s meal.

Kurusawa breathed in again, a subtle smile, the tiniest flicker of pride, at the surprised look on Sabuki’s face

Her sponsor had only time to teach her one jutsu before his demise. He taught her the body replacement technique.

She spent years, figuring out how to change the technique and make it her own, as no one would teach a sponsorless, tiny kunochi how to use more advanced skills. She was going to die in the trials and missions put before oto-nin, so why waste the effort?

There were many restrictions, such as weight differences in targets, but she could swap two remote objects, rather than swap herself for something else. Part of that had to do with how she had to plant her chakra to make sure she wasn’t the one yanked across distances.

Weight was another issue, as she couldn’t swap items of too disparate weight. Unless she wore Gabudo’s pack along with her own when in the field, she couldn’t swap herself for him, their weight differences too great at her meager eighty pounds to his near two hundred.

Swapping two empty bowls for two full ones, however? No problem at all, and the look on Sabaki’s face was worth every hour and day and year she put into practicing her one skill. She could even do the seals involved one handed, and she had, with the hand behind her back. She didn’t think she’d be able to do this with any other jutsu, if anyone would teach her some, but she was proud, none the less.

“Ku-sa, you still doing parlor tricks?” At the doorway of the mess hall, sauntering in like they owned the place, was Dosu Kinuta and his gang. Kin Tsuchi was the one who had taunted her, though Dosu and Zaku Abimi smiled at her jab.

Kurusawa’s small smile faded, and she didn’t say any more. She didn’t quite shrink in on herself, nor call upon her don’t-notice-me nameless technique. Kurusawa just endeavored to not attract any more attention, especially from Dosu’s group, who sauntered to the kitchen window people were being served from.

Following them in was a jonin who walked around like he was in charge. Kurusawa guessed he was going to be the one to brief the eighteen genin, who, by Kurusawa’s count, had all arrived with Team Dosu’s presence.

The Jonin moved to the head of the room, a slow stride that let the Dosu team get their food and take a seat. She wondered if they just came out of some private briefing, but she couldn’t tell given that they were usually so smug that she couldn’t differentiate their everyday superiority from being extra smug at their special rank among genin.

The jonin spun to address them, not even needing to say a word as most of the genin had picked up the same vibe as Kurusawa; the others still talking were nudged by their allies to quiet down.

Speaking confidently, the jonin did not wax philosophic on their role in Konoha, “You are not here to play around. Some of you genin are our best and brightest. The rest of you are being tested to see if you are worth further investment at all. You are all important to our plans.”

His eyes swept across them. Kurusawa didn’t have any doubts as to who his comments referred to. She flashed him the expected look of defiance and confidence, before his eyes moved elsewhere. Her eyes left him, the least interesting person in the room, as she looked over the other genin while the jonin spoke. She was bored, and tired and didn’t have the energy to look attentive. The day and past two weeks were catching up to her.

“You are not here to be tested to be genin. Nothing I say will leave this room, but you are the first step in our conquest of these lands. We plan on invading Konoha at some point during the exams, with the help of other clans. This is our Kage’s wish, to test the mettle of these leaf-dogs. So make it your wish as well.”

Kurusawa already knew this. The jonin, “their” jonin supposedly, didn’t particularly like them, but he was talkative. While Kurusawa, Gabodu and Densu got along with minimal conversation and less bonding, the jonin was used to his fireside filled with some form of conversation. Most of it was filled with his surety that they would be dead before the first test, their lack of skills, the fact that they were considered one of the worst genin teams, and furthermore.

He also talked to them about their mission in Konoha. It was good that the oto-nin had liked the sound of his own voice so much, for Kurusawa learned much.

The jonin continued, as several of the genin teams looked surprised at the news, “There are several rules and conditions I expect you to meet. If you do not, you will wish you died in the exams.”

Kurusawa thought this was a rather idle threat among kids who spent their days training at Otogakure. She didn’t laugh though.

There were a few teams that were not surprised by the revelation that this collection of genin were the vanguard of an invasion. She memorized the body shapes of a few of them, as none but Team Dosu had their faces uncovered. Gabodu’s team of uncovered hair were the only other exception.

Of course, Team Dosu wasn’t surprised by the revelation. She expected them to know earlier than anyone else. Kurusawa was looking at the group when Zaku Abumi, the last memeber of Team Dosu, met her eyes, his usual smarmy grin fading into a scowl when their eyes met.

Kurusawa quickly looked away. Not down, for that would have been an obvious submission and there was no submission without pain and suffering in the land of Sound. But she looked away, and didn’t glance at Team Dosu again.

“You are not to grievously wound anyone before the exams during training, though blows that will heal before the exams are acceptable.” The wind blew out of the eager looking Tabuki’s face as he started to motion with his sling. “You may not talk to anyone but Oto-nin until the exams start. You may not…”

The list went on, but it could be summed up with “Don’t leave the compound, don’t be idiots, and don’t bother anyone we explicitly tell you not to bother.” He didn’t mention Harutsi, which surprised Kurusawa. She supposed they, the leadership, that is, were leaving it up to the genin to do their own research.

They were eventually let go for the evening. It was summer, it was still bright out, and would be bright for another hour or so. This did not dissuade Kurusawa from heading to the bunk room designated for her team and the -abuki team. She didn’t know the name of the creep yet, but with two out of three fitting the theme, she made her label and stuck with it.

There was no one there, of course. It was still light out and there were well kept baths and training and talking to be done for all the social genin. Knowing Oto-nin, it was mostly posturing and attempts at sorting everyone else out by strengths and weaknesses.

She was more interested in getting her sleeping arrangements set up, but she couldn’t do that until she was certain that she wouldn’t be bothered.

Instead, she put her backpack on the ground next to her bed and sprawled out over the top of the covers, as if relaxing. If she recalled correctly, it looked like the -abuki team was heading this way as she left the cafeteria. She already knew Gabodu and Densu tended to train with each other in the evening.

She didn’t have to wait long for her suspicions to be confirmed, as the room’s door clicked open and the -abuki team strolled in. She lifted her head up to look at Sabuki, the leader, for a moment to show him that she was awake, then put her head back down. Their conversation ended when they entered the room.

To be honest, she was a little terrified they might get revenge on her because her team beat them, and she stole Sabuki’s food. Her chakra went to keeping her pulse at a reasonable rate, in case they had exceptional hearing. The effort made her heart literally ache. The three of them seemed to ignore her, as they walked past her bunk to the ones they occupied, furthest from the door. They got into their trunks and, from the sound of it, retrieved some clothing. She prayed they were going to the baths.

They didn’t say a word since entering the room, nor did they say anything as they left. But as they passed by, Sabuki spit on her, saliva hitting the side of her face. Tabuki, the one with the sling, and the creep followed suit, spitting on her without comment.

Kurusawa didn’t say anything either, though she had opened her eyes to stare at them after the first gobbet hit her.

They left, and she could hear one of them, the creep, she thought, chuckle as they closed the door behind them.

A shudder ran through her body and she let go of her pulse, bringing her arm up to wipe away all the spit on her head onto her sleeve. Kurusawa was relieved, actually. It could have been far, far worse. Maybe they hadn’t thought too much about it, but there was plenty the trio could have done that would have, ostensibly, healed in a week.

She got up, crouching next to her bag, and began unloading what she planned on working with. She hid her tools in the shadow of her bed, next to the trunk at the food of the bed. She didn’t want to start setting everything up until she was sure she could do it as quickly as possible. She did pull out a meal bar and eat half of it for dinner.

Finally, everything was laid out, her backpack closed again and placed in the center of the space under her bed. She closed her eyes and thought about what she wanted to do.

Plan visualized, she stood up and went to the door to their room, pressing the side of her face to it. She could hear people moving around outside, including a group of three that could have been the -abuki genins. She couldn’t hear anyone on the other side of the door, nor anyone who seemed to be heading to their room. She let go of the hearing enhancement chakra, and went back to her bed.

Her body burned with the long slow pulsing ache of chakra use. Her arm stung where the senbon needle pierced her. She was tired, mentally, physically, spiritually. She’d spent the last two week running along behind Gabudo, Densu and their jonin.

No one had taught her how to hop in the trees, so she did everything on the ground. Her partners didn’t mind as it made her a better target than them. It took constant practice, but she learned how to keep up with them in spite of her disabilities as a genin.

So, Kurusawa was tired. But she had the opportunity right now and she couldn’t waste it. She set to work, trapping her bed with wire and smoke bombs and a few contact poisons. She wasn’t trying to make her bed a death trap. She did want to make sure that anyone who decided to attack her in the night regretted it. She didn’t think anyone would bother her... but she learned to be more paranoid than was reasonable, even for a shinobi.

Her preparations complete in a matter of minutes, she got into her bed very carefully. She remained dressed and held her best kunai in her right hand pressed to her chest, as she lay down on her stomach, careful not lay on her own spiked hair. Her head was facing the door, and her left arm sprawled in front of her face. She wasn’t using the pillow, tucked up cleanly beneath the sheets on a comfortable bed her head barely sticking out of the top. There was still room between her feet and the wall, as the bunks were clearly made for adults, probably servants or low level clerks for whoever actually belonged in the complex.

Ever vigilant, Kurusawa truly didn’t mean to fall asleep on the soft warm mattress. She really hadn’t. But she couldn’t help it. Exhaustion caught up with her too quickly, and she hadn’t sleep somewhere soft in what seemed like years. It seemed to happen between the blink of an eye. In spite of the pain throbbing through her muscles… one moment she was awake, the next asleep.

Her body was awake in a flash when she heard the catch of the latch on the door. Kurusawa’s eyes darted open, but she didn’t move, trying to regain full consciousness without giving the appearance of waking. She heard the familiar plodding steps of Gabodu and a disgusted sigh of Densu.

She felt herself relax, but she did not go back to sleep. Gabodu in particular had a vicious streak that could appear at any time, without warning. He was sleeping in the bed adjacent to the door, Densu in the cot opposite. Kurusawa herself slept in the bed next to Gabodu, while the -abuki genin occupied the three cots furthest from the door, leaving an empty bed on the other side and across from her.

Her two teammates seemed to be getting ready for bed, so she let her eyes ease back closed. They didn’t talk much. Kurusawa didn’t know if they talked more away from her presence or if they just didn’t talk much.

Even having earned the right to be on their team for over six months now, she didn’t really know who they were. She even grew up with them, having known them since she was nine years old and they were eight or so. They were the top genin from their Otogakure, with attentive sponsors and trainers. Individually, Gabodu or Densu could hold their own against any one person on Team Dosu.

Kurusawa was the leftover and she knew it. She wasn’t skilled so much as she was more paranoid and, in the end, more brutal than the other genin at their Otogakure. It could be argued that paranoia and brutality were assets as a sound shinobi, but Kurusawa knew better. Brutality is a feature of desperate oto-nin, not skilled ones. The skilled ones are cruel.

She couldn’t fall back asleep so easily, now that she had been roused, and she didn’t really want to sleep while Gabodu and Densu were just settling. They didn’t stay fully dressed like she did. She was even still wearing her steel studded gloves and her face wrappings.

So she stayed awake, thinking on her past mistakes, the aches and pains, and how she was going to survive this genin exam.

Gabodu and Densu relatively quickly dressed down for sleep and settled in. Kurusawa was now too awake and aware of her pain to really settle into something that could have been called a comfortable nap. She instead tried not to brood on the past, willing her body and muscles to relax.

It wasn’t for another hour of quiet contemplation that the -abuki team finally returned, joking and jostling one another. They didn’t bother to be quiet for the people trying to sleep, but they also fell into their beds in relatively quick order.

Kurusawa listened for them to fall asleep completely, another thirty minutes gone. She took a breath and moved her left arm a little, allowing her to see Gabodu’s bed. She could also see underneath it, at the very edge of the shadows, was his backpack. She’d placed it there on purpose.

She centered and calmed herself, this would take some finesse, and began the seals. Nearly inaudible was her whispered mantra of “kawarimi no jutsu”, and she was suddenly underneath Gabodu’s bed, his backpack now under the covers where she once was. There was no sound, no puff of smoke or any distinguishing feature, which took quite a lot of work.

She turned her head and readied herself for part two of her set-up, the hardest part. She pressed her chakra into the cool, unyielding stone floor, anchoring herself, and whispered her commands again. This time she focused on her backpack, under her bed, and Gabodu’s pack, still under her sheets.

She had to put a little extra umph into the jutsu, so that she could layer a genjutsu over her pack, making it look like her, sleeping as she was moments ago. She even managed to make it look like she was still breathing, in case anyone glanced at her while she slept.

Kurusawa waited a moment longer, waiting to see if anyone would comment or cry out. No, they were all still asleep. She didn’t relax quite yet, having to make one more transition. She looked again at Gabodu’s pack and used her body-substitution jutsu one last time, placing herself back under her own bed. She pulled herself, silently as possible, into the deepest recesses of shadow and waited once again for any sign that anyone detected her actions.

If any of them had extremely keen senses, they might be able to tell that her heartbeat and breathing came from beneath the bed, not above it… but she was relatively confident that she got away with her little swap. She’d do the whole swap in reverse before she got up for the night, but it wasn’t quite as hard, since she didn’t have to place everyone under a genjutsu at the same time.

So Kurusawa, comfortable with the fact that no one `was awake, and no one knew where she really was, finally closed her eyes to doze. She wouldn’t sleep as hard as she had earlier, but she felt a little safer with her deception. At the back of her mind, she worried that she was being too paranoid, too crazy. She rationalized to herself that you couldn’t be too paranoid if they were really out to get her, but still…

Kurusawa drifted into an uneasy sleep. Her dreams were of the echoes in the dark hunting her, and of a world where she wasn’t quite so small. 


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Kurusawa, now in a room with other people, didn’t fall into the easy slumber she had before. She rested just on the edge of unconsciousness. Her eyes darted open at the sound of every shifted sheet, and her right hand gripped her kunai close to her chest. It was fortunate that her body became so used to so little sleep in the past few years.

Sometime past midnight, but before the pre-dawn light, Kurusawa admitted defeat and decided to get up. She was so used to taking the middle watch during patrol and travel that sleeping for so long at once was making her more restless, not less.

The process to return to her own bed was far simpler. She didn’t have to bother with genjutsu, which helped. She still had to swap her bag with Gabodu’s then swap with Gabodu’s bag, to return everything where it was. Performing the Kawarimi without creating puffs of smoke was second nature for her and she could switch between types without much thought now that much of her chakra was restored.

Once she was back in her bed, she rubbed her eyes with her left hand and stretched, the kunai she held earlier now artfully back its holster. She sat up and glanced around the dark room, illuminated by only the shadows of starlight creeping through the heavily barred windows.

She could see two of the -abuki genin were awake and staring at her, the third still asleep. Densu slept as well, but she could see Gabodu’s eyes on her. None of them seemed more annoyed than simply having been woken by her movements, so she felt relatively certain that they hadn’t noticed her swapping with the bags. None of the -abuki team seemed like sensor types, and she knew Densu and Gabodu weren’t attuned to that sort of thing.

She stood up, avoiding the trip wires she set on one side of her bed, and grabbed her bag by the handle at the top again. The contact poison she applied to most of the outside of her pack would still be strong enough to numb her exposed fingertips if she touched it before sunrise.

She left the room, likely waking up everyone in the room, but she didn’t care. Slipping into the illuminated and empty hallways, she walked her way to the nearest doors to the outside. She still didn’t feel comfortable going to the interior courtyard, windows all around with no real sense of escape. She instead went to one of open spaces between the main building and the walls surrounding the temporary Sound compound.

She stepped into the dark starlit space and looked around for other Oto-nin. She nodded to the two shinobi she saw on the walls, both of whom were watching to see what she was doing. Kurusawa figured that the Genin would be put on watch duty soon enough, but they had been kind enough to give them a night’s respite. The ground was hard packed earth, not the best training grounds for avoiding bruises, but better than jagged rock too.

She began stretching, essential before any strenuous activity as a shinobi, and particularly necessary today. She was stiff and her muscles tight, though it didn’t take long for her body to relax. Kurusawa supposed there were small comforts in any curse, and her body’s youth allowed her to get into fighting shape very quickly.

She began exercises and drills, alternating between more intensive rounds of running and sprinting to slower but no less important tumbling and acrobatics. It was a personal regime she had developed for herself after spying on other genin training. Her sponsor, when he was alive, hadn’t really done much physical training, focusing more on subterfuge and mental training, as was intended by her “enhancements”. So she had made her own routine.

Every half hour or so, she had never excelled at telling time, she would take a few minutes to do breathing exercises and meditation, occasionally working on chakra control and manipulation.

It was in this cycle of heavy exercises and momentary peace that slowly the pre-dawn light started to permeate the sky. She noted the time and slowed down her workout, doing simpler push-ups, jumping jacks, and more stretches. She saw more people around, and she didn’t want to be exhausted and panting if anyone approached her.

Also, it was getting close to breakfast, and she didn’t want to miss the only meal she got a day that wasn’t meal bars or other scavenged food.

By the time she could see the sun’s light hitting the top edges of the building’s wall, she knew breakfast was being served. She picked up her pack and put it on, less concerned about any lingering poison and more concerned about getting a meal.

Breakfast was a more relaxed affair, with genin and jonin sharing the time and space. She got in line coincidentally behind her jonin-sensei, but they didn’t share a word. In fact, they barely shared a glance, her jonin filled with the usual contempt, and her own filled with as much respectful reserve as she could manage.

Breakfast was eaten at a table furthest away from a pair of chunin talking quietly to one another. They didn’t take major offense at her existence and she ate quickly enough to get out of their hair before she stifled their conversation. As she left, Gabodu and Densu arrived for breakfast, looking cleaner and well rested. Gabodu still went out of his way to shoulder her aside as she left, but she ignored the gesture, leaving to head upstairs, hoping to find an empty room with a window.

She did on the second floor, a small room with a few desks and chairs pushed into the corner for storage. She closed the door behind her. She would be doing some more physical training later, but for now, she wanted to practice her other abilities.

She went to a window, which had a small cage of iron bars mounted to the inside and opened it as far as she could, which was about six inches. The bars and small opening were just as much for preventing someone from breaking into the building as it was to prevent someone from breaking out.

A little fresh air went a long way, and from this room, slightly lower than the wall around the compound. She could see the tower at the center of Konoha.

She wondered what it was like for the villagers, being able to see the kage of their village on a regular basis. She’d only seen the oto-kage once and it had been from a distance away.

She wondered what it was like to not fear and worship their kage.

Kurusawa finished her musing, leaning against the wall next to the door and its hinges. If the door opened, she wouldn’t be immediately visible It was a silly trick but it had worked at her home Otogakure before the others became wise to her trick. There wasn’t anything in her backpack that wouldn’t stand to being crushed, and it happened to be softer than the hard walls and floors.

She was also out of sight of the window, which meant she wouldn’t have to worry about any Konoha spies watching her work.

Crossing her arms, she stared at the tables on the far side of the room. She pressed her chakra into the ground, and two of the six chairs swapped position. They had been facing away from one another, but now they faced each other. Her power could change their location, but the direction the objects faced remained the same.

Kurusawa did this for a while, slowly burning through her chakra. She wouldn’t let it drop too low while she practiced, and since the chairs were almost identical, the amount of energy she needed to use for each swap was small.

Soon, she tired of the practice and pulled out two kunai. Holding one in each hand, she tossed them into the air, froze to anchor her chakra, then swapped them while they still rose.

Swapping moving objects was harder, and it had take Kurusawa several months to realize that her power to swap things was heavily dependant on the object’s mass and speed. If the two kunai were moving at different speeds, they become far harder to switch around. She didn’t really have a calculation for this, or some value to compare it to. It was just harder. She figured it had to do with their momentum.

Not only that, but when objects of different speeds are moving in different directions and she swaps them, they remain moving in the same direction before the swap. She had learned this the hard way when she tried juggling and swapping kunai at the same time a couple years back.

When Kurusawa was younger and had aspirations of impressing the others her age, she tried swapping kunai as she juggled them. She had tossed one blade with a green ribbon on it up into the air with her right hand, while her left hand tossed the yellow ribboned blade to her right hand. When she swapped them, the yellow kunai flew off to her right several feet above her head.

The kunai with a green ribbon went straight up and left her a nasty gash on her jawline. She had to stitch the wound up herself, in a mirror. It had been a stark reminder that she could have killed herself by experimenting with ninjutsu. An inch back, and she would have lost her jugular. Two inches over, and she would have cut her throat.

So now, Kurusawa only practiced by throwing up two kunai at the same time, in the same direction. Even if they swapped in the air while falling, they wouldn’t change directions unexpectedly.

This practice was actually harder than it sounded, since she had to anchor herself to swap the two kunai, and while she was anchored, she couldn’t move at all, not even to blink.

So she played a delicate game of tossing the kunai into the air, throwing her chakra at the ground, swapping the kunai, letting her chakra bounce back into place around her and catching the kunai all in the space of about two seconds each toss.

It was hard work, and it drained her chakra. She didn’t practice like this for more than three minutes, and by the end of this, she was panting and felt slightly nauseous. It was an odd sense of disorientation, like her senses weren’t lining up quite right with the rest of the world. She figured it had something to do with how she was moving around her chakra, and tried not to exacerbate it too much. She didn’t want to be dizzy in case someone hostile found her.

Kurusawa rested then, still learning against the walls like always, but with larger slump, tired but pleased with her workout. Kurusawa was getting good at her Kawarmai no Jutsu, a minor, basic Ninjutsu that she had honed to perfection. She could do things that no one else could do with it, even if it had extremely strict limitations, and was difficult to use in battle, and she was rather subpar otherwise, as a shinobi of sound.

After she got her breath back, she glanced out the window, to get a feel for the time of day. The sun agreed with her sense of time, around nine o’clock. She considered her options. On one hand, she’d like to get more exercise in. On the other, she knew she needed to study earlier rather than later.

Kurusawa headed back downstairs, after closing the window and door behind her, and made her way to the domain of the odd jonin Harutsi. As she approached his hallway, she could tell he was still playing his off-key recorder, though a different, arrhythmic tune was playing now. Kurusawa suppressed a sigh, knowing that she would have to get used to that hostile tune for the hours and days to come.

Kurusawa stopped at the doorway to look in, making sure there was no one else but Harutsi. She was indeed alone with the jonin for better or worse. She knocked on the doorway, saying softly under the minor cacophony of the recorder, “Harutsi-sama, I am here to look at the records. Is now a good time?”

Without turning around, the intrsument user pulled his right hand away from his recorder and gave her a thumbs-up sign, out of place but friendly. He did not stop playing while this happened, making several very flat, very annoying beeps and whistles while he continued.

Kurusawa rubbed her temple while this happened, but she didn’t comment, simply saying, “Thank you,” as she walked over to the chest with the intelligence on the competition.

Without any real measurable skill advantage, she knew she needed to get an advantage any way she could. She wasn’t ashamed that she had to study vastly superior opponents just to survive. Someone her size couldn’t afford have much pride on the battlefield in the Otokagure.

She opened the chest and began running her fingers through the files, deciding, at random, to pull out the Sand Genin files. They had been specifically mentioned at dinner, so she wanted to know why they were chosen to be allies in the assault on Konoha. She stood up and leaned against the wall, near the chest, ignoring with all her might the discord in the air. Her reading started with the first file.

“Subject #N-0028461, known as Gaara of the Sand Waterfall is a genin of the sands. As of last report, it is male, has short red hair, and is one and a half meters tall. Distinct by the red seal above his pupil-less pale blue eyes, subject is all but confirmed to be the Jinchuuri of the Two Tailed Tanuki. Subject is extremely dangerous, able to manipulate sand and other small particulates with extreme skill, force and focus. All genin are to avoid this target, as it is currently not an enemy of sound. This is not to spare the subject any harm, but to prevent losses in oto-genin. It has been successful in killing A-class missing-nin alone and has been on the following missions:-”

A sudden downward screech of tortured recorder, and Kurusawa brought her head up in alarm, completely distracted. Harutsi was slowly letting the strangled note die, and she noticed that he was eyeing her from the corner of his eye. The note died with a fierce finality, and there was a notable pause at the end of the song.

Kurusawa and Harutsi looked at each other, his head turned away from the wall, his eyes searching hers for something. She gave a cautious nod, keeping her face relatively neutral, though she felt the edge of a headache forming, as she imagined hours of this one-man band.

Still, Harutsi seemed to appreciate her acknowledgement of his work. He seemed to take a few seconds, twiddling his fingers as if unsure which of his next masterpieces he would play next, and she returned to reading.

She was there for at least four hours, pouring over document after document, going back to refresh her memory every once in a while, to make sure she kept the details straight. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust her memory, so much as that she didn’t want to forget a minor detail or not remember who was and was not off limits to attack. By the time it felt like two PM, she had to give up. She didn’t know that damage could be taken without even words being said, but she was absolutely certain that if she did not leave soon, her chakra would begin bleeding.

She put away the files and fled to her room, not expecting anyone else to be there at this time. It was prime training time, and she figured the other two would be sparring with the other oto-genin in the center courtyard.

Kurusawa was correct, thankfully, and she took a seat on her own bed, taking her backpack off and ruffling through it. She finally found what she wanted, her open box of meal bars, and grabbed a couple.

One, she tore open and stuffed into her mouth to sate her hunger, after shifting aside her face wrappings. She wasn’t going to get a dinner, so she might as well eat while she was alone. The second bar she put under Densu’s pillow.

Kurusawa chewed thoughtfully as she considered his pillow hiding the meal bar. She did this mostly on a whim. She had absolutely no interest in Densu; by doing this it was merely on his own terms. On one hand, a slightly less hungry Densu was an easier Densu to deal with.

On the other hand, she was entertained by the idea that Densu would have to struggle to figure out who gave him the meal bar, and if it was safe to eat. The idea of him agonizing over whether it was safe or not made her smile a little. When Densu did eat it, as he inevitably would, he’d find it was completely safe.

Her grin grew a little lopsided as she wondered how he would react. He’d wonder who gave it to him. Densu would never suspect Kurusawa. The pair were perfectly aware of the mutual dislike that existed between them. Kurusawa didn’t, as far as anyone know, have a pranking streak either. The only time she did stuff like this was when absolutely no one would point fingers at her.

Densu would have to wonder why either one of the -abuki twins or Gabodu gave him a perfectly good meal bar. Kurusawa swallowed, with the satisfaction that she sowed just enough confusion to entertain herself, while being uncatchable. Kurusawa didn’t get many pleasures in life, but this was one of the few.

Kurusawa had listened to the lessons on psychological warfare when there was a small seminar held for all oto-nin at her home village. She knew she was doing this, in some small way, to get back at Densu for his cruelty. She didn’t care, really.

Kurusawa pulled out her water canteen and slowly began to drain it while sitting on her own bed and thinking. Kurusawa could feel that visceral enjoyment at watching someone else suffer. It was bred into oto-nin culture, just as perfect obedience was beaten into oto-civillian culture. Even now, she couldn’t contain her uneven grin at the anguish that would meet Densu when he warred with his common sense against his endless hunger.

It wouldn’t break his mind or anything. It was not torture for any purpose. In fact, Densu would probably be even more of a pain to deal with for the next couple of days after he discovered the meal bar.

Kurusawa left the room and the meal bar behind, heading to a bathroom to refill her canteen among other things.

By the time she finished there, she was trying to figure out where she should go next. She wanted to do more physical training, but the courtyard would no doubt be filled with other genin, sparring for practice. She didn’t doubt that any sparring she was invited to would end up with someone hurt, and she was almost certain it would be her. Instead, she made her way to the outside of the main compound again, wandering to the very inside of the main walls.

From there, she began jogging, her backpack carefully balanced between strides with her twin ponytails swinging in the wind.

She ran for an hour, sweat slowly dripping down her face and breath coming faster. She had started to draw on her chakra to keep her going rather early on, but that was nothing new. She wasn’t moving at nearly the pace they had left Otogakure, so for that she was thankful.

Of course, as she ran, her limbs began to burn and sting with the still unhealed strains and stresses of traveling all week. It would heal, eventually she assumed, but it kept her from pushing herself while she ran. No one bothered her, though she heard a scoff or two from the chunnin up on wall duty. She had seen a couple genin and a jonin talking closer to the compound while she ran, but they simply gave her a short look then ignored her.

By the time she finished, her hair tangled some and her back soaked with sweat, it was getting close enough to dinner that she didn’t want to risk being late.

Kurusawa didn’t have to worry about wiping the sweat from her face, mainly because the wrappings absorbed most of it, making it cling uncomfortably from her face. Nothing new, and nothing she couldn’t bear.

She arrived in the kitchen before most people, though there was a group half a dozen genin sitting furthest from the serving windows, talking and laughing about something. She avoided them, walking to lean against a wall nearer the kitchen than not. She doubted they would bother her. She didn’t recognize any of them, even with their wrappings. They likewise probably didn’t know who she was.

Kurusawa stared off into space, surreptitiously watching the other genin out of the corner of her eye. She didn’t think they would bother her here… but she was too cautious to find-

“What’re you doing here, lazing about?”

Kurusawa was imminently aware of the large kitchen knife pressed tapping against the hollow of her throat, blade up towards her chin, before anything else. Knowing better than to swallow and show any more fear than was necessary, Kurusawa took a slow breath, her eyes flicking from the arm holding the knife to the owner’s face.

The chuunin was a small fellow, though not nearly as small as Kurusawa. Only half a head taller than her, he was thin, wiry, and cold eyed underneath his wrappings and all black suit. Kurusawa was tempted to test if he was a genjutsu, given how silent he was. She couldn’t hear him breath, or his clothes move, even as his wrist waggled the blade a few millimeters for emphasis.

“Sama, I am here waiting for dinner. Have I given some offense? Please forgive me if I have done so.”

The man tilted his head, still uncannily silent, considering her for a moment. The lazy, miniscule circles he made with the knife widened just enough to tap the bottom of her chin, scraping against the fabric. Kurusawa blinked as the moment extended. Kurusawa learned a long time ago that there was only so much mortal terror one could experience in their life. She had been so close to death so many times now, that the only time that she felt real, soul-terror fear was when she was making a choice to stick her neck out for some gambled advantage.

Here, if she died, it wouldn’t be because she did something wrong, but because of some random act. Nothing she could do, if this chunnin decided to kill her.

The knife retreated and disappeared without a sign, and the man grabbed her with his other hand, pulling her towards the kitchen. “If you don’t have anything more important to do than simper, then you can help back here. We are a little behind.”

She did not argue as she was dragged into the kitchens. Kurusawa still did not know where he secreted a ten inch kitchen knife so quickly that she didn’t see it happen and her policy was to not argue with those that much more capable than herself.

She was pulled into the back area of the kitchen, and the chuunin continued, “Put you crap in the back, wash your hands. Take over for him.” He gestured at a man who was organizing bowls around the kitchen for serving at the window. “You will be serving. You get your dinner while the last shift cleans.”

Kurusawa spoke, even as she walked to the back area where there were lockers, “Sama, could I give my dinner to one of the other genin? I will stick around to clean instead of eat.” She didn’t watch him as she spoke, quickly taking off her pack and shoving it into an empty wooden locker, before heading to the sink. He might be more amiable if she was clearly not standing around.

He grunted, “Sure, whatever. If I catch you stealing any food, I will remove any digits that touched said food.”

Kurusawa nodded and said, “Alright,” before tying on an apron like everyone else and stepping into line.

She said nothing, other than the occasional acknowledgement. She watched as other genin entered the room, seeing Gabodu and Densu watch her suspiciously from the other side of the window.

She didn’t really have time to explain, and she wouldn’t. As they began serving food, she was busy enough keeping up with everything that she almost forgot to give Densu her dinner when he came up to the window. No words were exchanged. It was a simple matter of passing over bowls and plates. When all the genin had been served, she was pushed over to the preparation table to get the next set of dinners ready.

In oto-structure, Genins were given food first because they had the least amount of time to eat. They got twenty minutes. After that, longer shifts of chunnin and jonin got to eat. It also helped to have all the genin in one place at the same time, so that announcements could be made. Yesterday was an exceptionally long dinner, as the jonin had gone over the rules for the week.

Kurusawa could hear one of those announcements being made in the mess hall as she sliced carrots, but she couldn’t hear it properly, and would rather not mess up back here and get that silent chuunin on her again. Every once in a while, she’d catch him standing next to her, no sound made, no warning, and he would watch her a few moments, before moving on again.

Kurusawa worked the entire kitchen shift, serving food and preparing dishes. She was not surprised to see that the chuunin and jonin ate noticeably better than the genin, with extra side dishes and even a dessert. She didn’t touch any of it, except to serve, however, and she wasn’t going to make any more noise than she had to.

The biggest problem with being serving for the other shifts meant that all of them took note of the prepubescent-looking girl serving them food. For the most part, she didn’t get bothered, but she wasn’t keen on being noticed personally by everyone in the compound. Kurusawa bore it with impassiveness, even when there were jokes asking where in the Konoha did the silent, threatening, and small head chef chuunin, named Azumi, kidnap a kid.

Truth be told, she would have joined them in making jokes. Most of these people she did not know, and they seemed a rather more jovial sort than the shinobi that lived in her home village. Still, one joke in the wrong spot, and she would be threatened or worse. So she kept her mouth shut.

Her jonin didn’t even notice her presence in the dining hall, listening intently to a pair of other nin talking about how they were going to kill some copycat nin while they were here in Konoha.

Dinner finished about an hour later at night than she had fallen asleep last night, which meant she didn’t have time to do nearly the sort of preparation she had before. It made her nervous, and she still had to clean up. By the time she was finished here, she wouldn’t be able to set up anything but the barest minimum of required traps.

Kurusawa didn’t say anything, nor did she shirk on her task, which ended up being sweeping the floor, since she was too short to easily reach the sink to scrub dishes. By the time she was finished, there were only a few tasks left, all of them taken up by other nin.

As she looked around for another task to take, she suddenly sensed a presence at her side, Azumi the head chef, for the first time without a knife in hand. She nearly started, but bit the inside of her lip to contain her reactions.

He stared down at her from his own, admittedly, not impressive height. “Get out. You’ve done your part.”

She nodded, leaving with a simple thanks, heading, seemingly to her barracks. Instead, she walked past her room towards one of the storage closets. She wouldn’t be able to set up her trip wires, nor most of her other defensive measures. Entering the closet while there was no one in the hallway, she found herself alone in the dark.

A quick process followed as she applied the paralytic gel to the outside of her pack, leaving the handle and a few straps un-poisoned. She didn’t have much else she could really prepare, and she suspected that the others might very well be in the room, sleeping.

It took her an embarrassingly long time to psych herself up to step into the hallway with her pack, her breath coming quick for no other reason than fear. Another night alone surrounded by people she couldn’t trust.

It might have been a minute, it might have been five, while Kurusawa silently alternately berated herself and encouraged herself in that dark confines. She convinced herself she couldn’t stay in that closet for the the night. Someone would notice, someone would use it against her somehow. Then she would die. All of her scenarios, she felt, ended in her dying. She wondered if that meant she was jaded or not, given her life. She didn’t think that the word jaded made sense in the world she lived in.

Eventually, her minor panic attack faded and she began breathing in and out at a sedate, normal pace. She swallowed and grabbed her pack by the handle hauling the uneven load with one arm towards her room.

The room was dark and her eyes said that all the beds but her own were occupied. She could sense Gabodu’s stare on her, the barest hint of light reflecting off his eyes. She walked past him, and set her pack under her bed, before settling into the covers, attempting to appear to fall asleep.

It took a long time for her to feel comfortable with the silence in the room, to feel free to swap backpacks like the night before. Only then did she fall asleep, curled up under the bed on the cold hard floor, at least for a few hours before she woke again for training.

Her sleep was just as restless as before, but her body ached a little less, but her mind was less at ease. The training she went through was less outright strenuous than days of traveling, but her thoughts were spinning constantly, trying to keep up and maintain appearance around all these dangerous strangers.

It wasn’t all for nothing either. As she woke up at her usual time and picked up her pack for training, after her game of swapping, she found that there was something odd about how the fabric moved. With a moment’s investigation, a chill ran down her back and she realized that a kunai was sticking out of the side, caught in the metal mesh that lined her pack for protection. If she had been in bed, it would have cut her thigh open.

The tremors of fear struck her only after she left the room and vanished before she reached the outdoor courtyard, in the shadows of the hallway She couldn’t show her fear to the guards either, after all.

Her only solace was that she now had a brand new kunai. Somehow, the cold steel meant for her body failed to warm her heart. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all I have for now. Please leave any feedback if you liked the story and would like to see more. Or criticism is also welcome! I always want to improve as a writer. Thanks!


	6. Chapter 6

Kurusawa’s training was not quite as relaxing as she wished it had been. In the relative solitude of the courtyard, she was hoping that the sensation of being scrutinized would fade, but instead it simply grew. The brand new kunai pressed against her side, filling a usually empty holster, reminding her that she was never safe. 

Still, she ran her drills, stretched, cooled down, and ran them again, just like before, trying to keep her body as in shape as she could manage. Five years in the same body made for a lot of experience. Kurusawa would never be stronger than any of her peers, but she was as strong as her small body could manage without supplements or even proper nutrition.

It was during one of her final cool down periods that she suddenly felt something was off, looking around and trying to find out why she was uneasy. 

The only nin she could see was the guard on the wall, who had paused for few moments to stare at her. She’d seen the guards all night, patrolling and making sure that nothing was amiss. A few had paused to watch her, mostly because she was probably the most interesting sight in otherwise dull territory. 

In the pre-dawn light, she couldn’t reasonably expect to identify one of a hundred faceless -nin, wrapped in cloth and featureless. This one though… Something caught in her throat as she realized who it was. One of the -abuki siblings. It was the creep, the one she didn’t know the name of, and he was watching her with a level of intensity and, oddly, humor that unnerved her. 

But her main concern was not his intense stare, but where he was. He was on the wall, performing guard duty. Which meant the genin had been assigned duties at some point, and Kurusawa didn’t know anything about it. 

Her breath caught a moment as she ceased her her cooldown faster than she would have. Not quite stalking towards the main building, she headed in. There must have been postings, some sort of ledger that said which genin were assigned where, and when. She must have missed it. 

The sweat soaking her face and face coverings grew cold as she considered when and where she could have missed the postings. She was frightened she might have missed her duty already. It would not be a light punishment for failing to show up on duty. She might not recover before the exams. 

Cold sweat and a heartbeat that was not altogether steady, she silently headed for the kitchen. It was a too early for breakfast to have started, but it was the first place she could imagine a place where duties had been assigned. Everyone would see it, and could find their schedule. It would be there. It had to be there. 

The kitchen doors were closed, but she barely hesitated as she opened the door and stepped inside the mess hall. The room filled with benches and tables was empty of people and, as she moved further into the hall, the walls were barren. She could hear work being done in the kitchen and didn’t want to get spotted before another meal and get dragged into service. 

Shaking her head and walking out before anyone could question her, she stalked back out of the room, the door closed again. Maybe they posted the information in the courtyard she knew existed in the center of the building. Most of the training would happen there, and maybe that’s where they would have posted the information. Maybe. She told herself to keep her breath even, to not panic.

The danger, of course, would be the threat of someone being in the courtyard, and there almost assuredly would be. It was early, but no Oto-nin was truly lazy and there had to be a few genin and even chunnin or jonin practicing before dawn. She wasn’t afraid of her seniors, however, as much as she was afraid of the other genin. It was poor form to beat up on Oto-nin that were significantly less experienced. It happened, but she doubted it would happen here, in foreign territory. 

Other genins only saw her as a rival for glory and attention. 

The doors to the courtyard were open and she could see the scenes of a few nin sparring. It was too dark to tell who it was yet, but she walked into the open air with purpose, looking around at all the surfaces that might have posted orders. 

The courtyard was not large, perhaps an even fifty by forty yards of space. There were a few target dummies, three fifteen by thirty yard sparring squares, as well as a small suite of workout equipment along one wall, from weights to acrobatics bars.

There were perhaps eight people who were in the courtyard that Kurusawa could see- , two pairs sparring, two performing taijutsu katas, while the last two were idly throwing stars at the pair of target dummies and chatting in low murmurs. They all glanced at her as she entered the courtyard, though the sparring pairs quickly returned to their work. 

Kurusawa’s eyes, while searching the walls, were flicking back and forth between the other nin, knowing the cruelty of other peers, and expecting the worst. 

It was a good thing too, or else she wouldn't have noticed one of the star throwers pause a moment in his toss and conversation. 

The star was wickedly fast but she’d already performed the symbols with the one hand hidden at her side. The taijutsu genin pair would have been able to see her gestures, but she vanished in a puff of smoke mid-stride as the substitution jutsu took hold. 

The throwing star he threw bit into low into target dummy, as she landed next to it’s brother down the practicing range. Kurusawa spun to face them, while desperately using chakra to calm her beating heart and hyperventilation. 

She didn’t waste the second of confusion; she snatched a throwing star from the other dummy and hid it up her sleeve. It would put her at a dozen good stars. 

Her chest ached fiercely with the effort to control her bodily reactions to adrenaline though.

Once they turned to face her, she smiled, bored, and walked back along the path she intended, seeking out a posting. A sharp voice rang out, saying, “Hey! The jonins said no jutsus in the courtyard!”

The hammering of her heart broke free of her chakra control and she felt a pulse of pain and fear shoot through her body. She remembered, but only after she’d swapped placed. She worked hard to keep the shivering fear and panic from her limbs as she kept half an eye on her search, the other one and a half on the others, “Ha. Oh no. The Tree-nin might find out that we’ve been taught substitution jutsus. You think they might figure out that we can also conceal ourselves with chakra next?” 

Her voice as all bravado and brag. Weakness is death. A pale note in Sound was quickly removed.

Her heart beat didn’t slow, as if furious at her attempts to contain it. She prayed to the non-existent gods that no chunnin or jonin saw her kawarimi no jutsu. 

But she spotted what she wanted, just on the other side of the last sparring grounds. She turned away from the other genin, but she heard rapid footsteps behind her. As they came close, she turned fast enough to see one of the genin leap over her to land between her and the sheets of paper that she was certain were her prize, the duty assignments for each of the genin. 

The boy who’d placed himself between her and her goal was taller than her, like most nin that weren’t eleven years old. He seemed maybe thirteen or fourteen, though he wore full Oto-nin garb, face covered and all, a bit of sandy brown hair exposed. He was probably her superior in combat, but that wasn’t saying much. Most bar room drunks and green genin were her superior. She could see the folds of muscles underneath his headwraps bend as he grinned, “I heard you were the lowest ranked nin from your class and village. That you barely scraped past two other, better nin to get here.” 

Kurusawa didn’t ask where this information came from. It could have as easily come from Team Dosu as it could Gabodu or Densu. None of them liked her. She simply tilted her head, her pigtails bobbing and spoke, in her quiet, small, too little-girl voice, “You a reporter? You could try interrogating those two about why they didn’t make it… if you can find their bodies.” 

She glanced at the other seven in the courtyard, before moving to step past the leaper, his eyes narrowed. He seemed to let her past until his hand shot out to grab her shoulder. She twisted and ducked, before he could get a good grip, turning to face him in the same motion.

His grin didn’t fade, “Why don’t you spar me first, before you see your week’s worth of duties, eh? I’d like to see who gets to be so proud of themselves for getting to keep their hair long.”

Kurusawa looked down and saw that she had stepped into the sparring ring. It was an obvious trap. She looked up at the boy, weighing her options. She might be able to reach the postings, but not fast enough for them to not catch her and beat her. She could simply flee, but she would be showing more weakness, and single herself out for constant torture this week. 

She smiled back and backed her way towards one end of the sparring match gesturing acquiescence as she drew forth a pair of kunai in one liquid motion, her head bobbing. 

It wasn’t artful, but she didn’t want to waste time drawing them in a spar she might very well lose. She held them in a reverse grip, using them more as defensive weapons and for extra weight in her punch, but also to avoid accidentally stabbing the other genin quite as easily if both of them should make a grave mistake.

She took longer than any nin should to place her feet in a proper stance, but her practice was always solo, and she knew her taijutsu had always been weak. 

He took the opposing position, smug and confident, a good foot taller than her and obviously more physically fit. He did not draw a weapon. He was taller, and stronger than her, but she thought he had just gotten finished sparring and, Kurusuawa thought, he had a bit of softness to his motion. 

He hadn’t had to fight and tear or even, yes, kill, like a rabid rat, like Kurusawa had, to get here. 

She had her backpack on, but she was so used to fighting and practicing with that weight, it was like a second skin, a humpback of armor.

Kurusawa needed to make a show of this, good enough to be respected but also not well enough that they might keep her from the posted duties out of spite. She’d also take a victory, but that would only happen if her head games had worked. 

The guy’s friend stepped up and gave them a count down. 

Kurusawa approached a few steps in rapid pace, to keep herself from being backed against the imaginary bounds of the fight. The leaper, took a little slower pacing forward. 

She’d seen the two pairs sparring, and had vaguely identified the different fighters. She was pretty sure she remembered this kid to be the one who liked to make roundabout attacks and-

Two roundhouse punches, dodged by rolling her torso, followed by a vicious two jabs that were met with the flat edges of her dullest kunai, and she responded, moving inside his grip to slap the inside of his elbow with a kunai hilt ring. His other hand slugged her face, faster than she could dodge, even as she rolled with the blow, ducking into a sweep with her right foot. 

Her spin was lent additional, delicious angular momentum by her fully loaded pack, delivering more force and speed than her small frame would suggest. Her leg hit his knee and she felt him topple over. A flash and another leap, and he jumped over her. 

She was still trying to slow down from the spin, attempting to leap towards his starting position as she slowed down, but her momentum fought her now, as she continued to spin past her starting position. She got a half leap away, when a force tugged her head back, violent and hard. 

She saw the stars, but her smile was savage as she moved with the initial tug. 

The Genin had let go of her and was staring aghast at his hand, about to scream. Kurusawa didn’t wait, offering a vicious pair of hammering, for her, blows to his his stomach, just below his ribs. 

The scream vanished in a weak noise as his air was forced violently from his lungs. He fell to his knees, and she kicked him over the rest of the way with a sharp blow to his shoulder. The kunochi bent to one knee at his side and held the vaguely sharp kunai to his neck, even as he struggled, desperately, to get breath back in his lungs, weak, painful moans leaving his mouth with each shallow breath. 

Kurusawa was breathing heavily as well, but not as heavily as she expected, as she surveyed her damage. 

His shoulder and stomach would be bruised badly. His elbow was negligibly damaged. One of his hands was a bloody, brutal mess. A second more of staring, and she decided that he didn’t sever any major tendons, just lots of skin and muscle damage. 

He’d gripped her pigtail to yank her back, gripped as hard as he could on slivers of glass and rusted metal, and yanked hard enough to stop nearly a hundred and fifty pounds of forward motion and spin. Maybe he did ruin a major tendon. She hoped she wouldn’t be penalized for it.

Regardless, and regretless, Kurusawa started up at his friend, who looked surprised into silence. “You might want to get a medic-nin.”

She didn’t have time for this. With as much noise as this made, she hoped that- 

She stood up and stepped over the wounded genin just in time to hear the sound of ripped paper. Kurusawa finished looking up to see Dosu Kinuta at the postings. He was slowly, one by one, ripping the three pieces of paper with the schedule on them down, and balling them into a large clump. 

He glanced over at her. He had no reason to fear placing his back at Kurusawa. She wouldn’t dare attack him. 

His eyes displayed nothing but empty sympathy. “Kurusawa. I see that you are still playing dirty games to win,” he spoke over the moans of the genin. 

Kurusawa bowed her head, knowing that Dosu, of all the people on his team, was hardest to read and most dangerous to cross. He believed in Orochimaru’s grand designs most of all, and the weak were hunted in those plans. Kurusawa was never certain if Dosu thought she was one of the weak or not. 

“Just using my advantages when I can, sama,” she spoke deferentially, as she tried to keep from cringing at the noise of crumpling paper.

It was funny. Kurusawa was two years older than Dosu, but there had never been a time when she’d met him that it didn’t end in her deference. He’d been trained from a young age, and was something of a prodigy with the Sound their clan was known for. Personal trainers, specialized equipment, he’d been better trained at the age of ten than she had been at fifteen, let alone when her own bio-modifications at age twelve had begun. And now she was certainly smaller, weaker, slower than him. 

Dosu nodded, she could see out of the corner of her vision, but said, “I told all the genin that anyone loyal to the oto-nin would be wise to memorize their assignments for the next week before dawn. It is as it should be.” The paper was crumpled further and further into a ball, and she knew that she’d never get a chance to read them even before there was a light ‘whump’ of chakra. 

The papers, now dust, fell from his hands like grains of sand from an hourglass, as he looked at her pointedly, walking away after another moment. It was not yet dawn, either.

A medic-nin came in, along with a pair of chuunin. They stared at Kurusawa hard, who was expecting some sort of chastisement. They said nothing to her, however, and she hesitantly walked away, towards the nearest courtyard exit. No one stopped her. 

Kurusawa was now reliant on asking either her team-mates or a superior. She’d have better luck getting an answer from a superior. Gabodu did not care if she knew where her duties were, and Densu would laugh.

Kurusawa felt the pressure of time on her. It would only be another ten minutes or so before breakfast was served. Shift changes happened near meal times, so she may have duties any minute. 

She stalked upstairs, grim, determined, terrified. She’d have no guarantees that she wouldn’t find herself punished for even asking, let alone if the person was willing to tell her after she was beaten for the question.

She saw a pair of jonin slowly walking towards the stairs she just exited on the third floor. She swallowed hard and began to approach them. She didn’t make it two steps before she felt the cold, nearly silent rasp of steel on cloth. She barely had time to flinch before the cold metal pressed against her throat.

“You have kitchen duty, girl. You’re late. Come on.” A familiar gruff growl, and it was Azumi’s, the Kitchen Chuunin, knife pressed to her throat. 

Kurusawa refrained from swallowing sour saliva in her mouth, certain she would cut herself on the edge of the blade if she did. “Of course, sama. My apologies.”

The steel, warmed a little by her skin, retreated. She followed the chuunin back down the same set of stairs she just climbed. A hesitant hand checked to see if she was bleeding, just in case the knife was too sharp to feel. 

Thankfully, she was not. One simply couldn’t bleed in a kitchen, and she had to wash the vestiges of the genin’s blood out of her hair as it was. 

She followed Azumi back into the kitchen, as he quietly spoke. She did not need the reminder of a knife to perk her ears to listen. “You are to report to all meals an hour and a half in advance. You will remain in the kitchen until all dishes are clean. If any superior spots food left behind on a bowl, that chunnin or jonin will meet out punishment as they see fit, and then I will will follow up. Is this understood.” 

“Yes, sama.” 

“I expect that if you aren’t directly assigned to a task, you are capable of finding another role. Dishes do not start being cleaned until all food is served.” Azumi looked back at her, “Have I made it clear? This is not guard duty every other day like the other lazy ‘nin. You are not being given a gift. I expect you to treat this as a mission as vital as one given by the Hokage themself.” He didn’t even give the Hokage a gender, should there be spying going on. Kurusawa took note. 

“Understood, sama.”

She’d already been late to starting breakfast, but it appeared that her first day’s misstep was going to be ignored.

The kitchen was not difficult work, but it was by no means easy. She went from preparing food, sweeping, checking on the food, making sure reserves were in place, and setting up serving stations and tables. At first, as the other kitchen workers began to serve themselves some food, she did not line up to serve herself, instead moving to take the trash to its designated spot for Konoha spies dressed as trashmen to take away and scavenge through.

A brief flash and Kurusawa, used to this by now, stopped herself before she walked into a kitchen knife. She was pretty certain he intentionally caught her eye with the glare of steel. “Eat when the others eat for breakfast,” Azumi declared in his usual low growl.

Kurusawa ate breakfast, though she did endeavor to eat faster than most of the others so she could finish taking out the trash. Some of the chunnin approved, but others were clearly annoyed by her very presence. The one other genin in the kitchen scowled at her and followed suit. 

Breakfast served, the genin were left to clean up the dishes and bowls. The other genin, one she didn’t recognize with a big stature and half-sized tetsubo on his back, left about fifteeen minutes after all the other chunnin had gone. 

Kurusawa cleaned off the dishes herself. She was not above eating the handful of squashed, slightly dirty food bites she found among the plates, after checking for obvious poisons. Some Sound-nin were strange enough to poison their own food to keep others from eating it. 

She finished late morning, and was more than a little behind on her research, but she found her way back to the mad musician’s room and began studying again. Next, she wanted to learn about the locals genin and persons of interest. This Leaf clan couldn’t be as weak as everyone mocked them for. 

An afternoon hidden in a store room, eating a coveted meal bar, practicing her ninjutsu and chakra control, followed by an evening serving meals.


End file.
